“I made an ice sculpture that represents my love for you. It never melts.”

“I love like a lawnmower in the desert. I love like a solar-powered lunar vehicle. I love like a wind-powered kite factory. Some might even say I love like an ice cube in an oven, but I’d vehemently disagree. It’s not an ice cube, it’s an ice sculpture—of your heart, and it’s melting at this very moment.”

“My love is a flower shaped like a snowflake. It won’t melt, so perhaps ice cream should be made out of it.”

“Just like trying to ice skate on two sticks of butter in the desert, my love for her melted and was no good to anyone but a chef.”

“My favorite salad dressing is vodka. And my favorite ice cream flavor is coffee, though I prefer it melted and hot enough to burn flesh.”

“I snorted powdered flamingoes while I pondered love. I sat at the bar two hours waiting for my ice on the rocks to melt so I could drink it and leave, but it was like my ex wife’s heart—it was just too frigid to melt. So I called up a midget, buckled myself in on his back, and had him give me a ride home. Ah, but that’s life, no?”

“If love melted like a statue made of butter, would you consider me a pancake or a waffle?”